The Fire That Refines a Man to GoldA Poem by Prophecy
By the crude hammer of a hundred rejections My heart is shaped, a beggar for love now turned to stone My bark is now thick, like leaves of mistrust But one divine wish lodged in my breast For a piece of heaven, this world is too dark These blows so unique to the earth Stun me, as if I were not a sacred heart too? In the forge of the harshness of women I as a man, was moulded and re-made To be a beast, a stalking prey, a trickster Only the fires of my boiled blood can burn Though how I treat the next women Is not even to me revealed, possessed and scorned With youthful vitality, mistreated and buried I give up on the spring-discovery, on a woman’s taste. © 2011 Prophecy |
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Added on December 31, 2011 Last Updated on December 31, 2011 AuthorProphecyAbouthttp://www.writerscafe.org/contests/WritersCafe%27s-Next-Top-Poet-/20610/ Every poem is a surprise! Do you have what it takes, to be Writer's Cafe's next Top Poet? Enter the frigging contest! more..Writing
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